


Falling for You

by itainthardtryin



Series: We're Bad At Dating: Clexa Edition (AU tumblr prompts) [8]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:01:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3729904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itainthardtryin/pseuds/itainthardtryin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part eight of the 'We're Bad At Dating' series based on this prompt: I’m calling to cancel our date because I’m actually in the ER right now, sorry. …I mean, sure, I guess you can come down here, but… okay…</p>
<p>Alternatively, Clarke asks Lexa on a second date and she agrees. Then, Clarke doesn't hear from her for 24 hours and starts to panic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling for You

 

_we should go out again on saturday._

Clarke’s been texting Lexa constantly. Octavia set them up a few weeks ago, suggested they should go on a date. So, never one to turn down a meal with a pretty lady, Clarke took Lexa out for dinner. It took about an hour for Lexa to let her guard down with her, and it took Clarke about an hour and five minutes to realise she’s into her.

Two and a half weeks later, and they haven’t seen each other since, but their texts have been constant. Clarke’s been busy with trying to finish her art portfolio in time for the end of semester, and Lexa has been completely swamped with work. But despite life’s best attempts at getting in the way, they’ve both found quiet moments in their day to text the other and check in.

Clarke doesn’t really remember what her life was like before she had Lexa to talk to. She honestly believes she could tell Lexa anything and she wouldn’t run. It took only four days for Clarke to tell Lexa about her dad’s death, and five to tell her about losing Wells and Finn. As Clarke expected, Lexa understood, replied with her own tales of loss and heartbreak. They weren’t so different after all.

_my turn to show the lady a proper date this time, clarke_

Clarke laughs. She doesn’t know whether to be happy she’s going to see Lexa again or offended at the comment.

_excuse you. i think you’ll find that dinner is a perfectly acceptable date._

Lexa takes no time at all to reply.

_how does one distinguish between a date, and dinner with a friend?_

Clarke doesn’t really believe in regrets. She believes that things happen and you deal with them. But fuck, not kissing Lexa after their date has to be the closest she’s ever come to a regret in her life.

_i’ve told you ten times. i didn’t want to overstep any boundaries!!_

Lexa hasn’t let it go since their date. At first, Clarke thought she was going to have to track down Lexa’s house and actually go over there to kiss her to stop the teasing. But then, somewhere along the way, Clarke started to enjoy it. She loves Lexa telling her how she wanted to kiss her. She loves knowing Lexa wants her.

_my boundaries are very much yours to overstep._

Clarke feels the desperate feeling of want stir deep within her, and she can’t help but think what Lexa’s idea of a date is going to involve.

_i’ll keep that in mind. where are we going on this wonderful date of yours then?_

Clarke waits for an answer for five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. None comes, and she shrugs it off, putting it down to Lexa’s work schedule.

She doesn’t even realise she’s sketching the outline of two women kissing until it’s too late.

 

\---

 

Clarke wakes up the next morning, and still has no reply from Lexa. She’s only known her for the best part of three weeks, but she knows this isn’t normal. She sends a quick text.

_is everything okay? haven’t heard from you in a while._

She watches the screen, hoping the little ‘typing’ bubble will show up and ease her racing heart, but it doesn’t.

She takes a hot shower, but even under the heat of the water she can’t stop shaking. She wills her body to stop, but her mind won’t stop running through scenarios she doesn’t want to be imagining. All of them end in her losing Lexa. She should be used to it now really. Everyone she loves - in any sense of the word - always ends up leaving her.

Clarke’s eyes widen as she realises what she just thought. She loves her. She’s in love with Lexa.

She tries to rationalise it. Tries to tell herself it can’t be love if you’ve been on one date with a girl you met three weeks ago. She tries desperately to use logic to explain how she cannot love Lexa. Not yet.

But it doesn’t matter what way she puts it, she can’t deny the fact.

She is in love with Lexa.

And Lexa isn’t returning her texts.

 

\---

 

She barely eats anything for lunch. Barely manages to sketch anything that isn’t vaguely Lexa-shaped. She draws her eyes more times that she cares to admit, trying to remember every detail of them from the last time she looked in them.

Clarke checks her phone every five minutes, but there’s never any response.

She’s almost run out of paper to sketch on when her phone finally rings. She picks it up and looks at the caller ID. It’s Lexa. She can’t answer it quick enough.

“Hey, is everything okay?” she asks straight away, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

“Sorry, I didn’t reply to you,” Lexa says, dodging the question. Clarke notes that her voice seems weak. “We may have to reschedule our date this weekend.”

“Why?” Clarke asks.

“I’ve been in the emergency room since yesterday afternoon,” Lexa explains. Clarke feels her blood run cold. Turns out the scenarios in her head weren’t too far from the truth. “I had an accident.”

“What sort of accident?”

“Please don’t laugh, but I fell down some stairs.” Clarke’s fears subside a little knowing that it wasn’t something more serious. “I split my head open and knocked myself out.”

“Are you okay now? Did you injure anything else?”

“I was out cold for a few hours. That’s why I’ve been kept in hospital. I guess they’re monitoring me for concussion or something. I’m going to have a pretty awesome scar though.” Clarke can hear Lexa’s smile in the words.

“You’re actually a child,” Clarke laughs.

“Believe me. The things I had planned for our date would prove otherwise.”

“How about we still have our date?” Clarke offers.

“Clarke, I more than anyone would like to have our date, but I don’t think I’ll be up to it this weekend.” Lexa sounds genuinely disappointed, as if this is the greatest inconvenience of her life.

“I know that,” Clarke says. “But I could come to you. Lots of couples have their second dates in restaurants or movies or bowling alleys, but who can say they’ve had their second date in the ER?”

“A couple?” It takes Clarke a second to realise what she said. “Are we a couple?” Lexa asks.

“If you would like us to be,” Clarke offers.

“I’d like that a lot,” Lexa replies. Clarke can’t contain her smile. She wishes now more than ever she was with Lexa so she could finally kiss her.

“So, will we have our first date as a couple in the ER?”

“You’re crazy. But yeah, I’m in Bellevue.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

\---

 

Clarke drops everything and makes her way straight to the hospital. She walks as fast that she has to physically stop herself from breaking into a run at times. When she gets to the reception, she finds a nurse to talk to.

“Hi, I’m here to see Lexa-”

She cuts herself off because she realises she doesn’t know Lexa’s surname. She knows about her trip to South Africa when she was fifteen, knows what she likes for breakfast, knows how long it took her to regain any sort of normality after Costia’s death. But she doesn’t know her surname.

They’ve texted as much as they can, but they haven’t added each other on Facebook or Twitter or any social networks. Clarke likes it. The old school fashion of it all. Of finding out things because Lexa explicitly chose to tell her, instead of reading it in 140 characters on a newsfeed.

“Sorry, excuse me for a second,” Clarke says, taking a seat in the waiting area. She sends a quick text to Lexa.

_i’ve just realised i don’t know your surname. i went to ask the nurse on reception where you were and i don’t think ‘i’m here to see lexa’ is enough information. mine’s griffin. what’s yours?_

Clarke takes the few moments before Lexa’s reply to think about their relationship. She thinks about how much they’ve told each other, how many things she’s told Lexa that other people don’t even know, and yet this simple detail was overlooked. Clarke wonders if this is how she knows Lexa’s different. That small talk was never something they did. They just let their walls down.

_woods. you should probably ask for alexandra woods. medical professionals don’t like nicknames._

Alexandra. Her name is Alexandra. Clarke doesn’t know why this makes her smile. She doesn’t know why she’s even slightly turned on by it. It’s a name. it doesn’t change anything about her. But at the same time it changes everything. Clarke imagines Alexandra Woods, businesswoman. Professional. She imagines her giving presentations and signing contracts and doing things Clarke could only dream of as a college student. Then she thinks of Lexa. The person she knows and loves. The flirtatious, playful, beautiful woman that she’s gotten to know the depths of over the past few weeks. A name can change everything. And she’s glad she knows Lexa.

_alexandra. i like it._

_i prefer lexa._

She keeps typing.

_but what i’d really prefer is if my girlfriend stopped texting me from downstairs, and came up to see me instead._

Clarke’s heart skips a beat on the word ‘girlfriend’. She reads it twice. Then reads it again. And then takes a screenshot.

She gets up and walks back over to reception. “Sorry about that. Alexandra Woods, please.” The nurse gives her directions and sends her on her way.

 

\---

 

Clarke finds Lexa right away. The pace of her steps slows slightly as she gets closer and takes in the sight in front of her. Lexa’s head has been shaved at the side, and in the space where her hair used to be is now a massive bandage. Her left eye is bruised and swollen, and there are wires coming out of her arm connecting her to a machine.

“About time, Clarke” Lexa says. Her voice takes Clarke’s attention away from the situation and reminds her that she’s still Lexa, even if she’s battered and bruised. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to be, but it’s still rude to keep people waiting.”

Clarke walks over to her bedside and sits down. “I haven’t quite mastered the art of teleportation yet. It takes time to get here you know.” Lexa smiles and reaches out for Clarke’s hand. Clarke takes it and rubs her thumb over Lexa’s skin. Being close to her is what Clarke craves. She knows that after today she’s not going to be able to go three weeks without Lexa again. She doesn’t care how busy she is, how much work she has to do. She doesn’t care if it’s 4a.m. and she has to crawl in beside Lexa as she sleeps, and get up two hours later before Lexa wakes up, she’ll do it to be close to her.

“Thank you for coming here,” Lexa says. “And I apologise again for this.” She laughs.

“What happened anyway? How did you manage this?”

Lexa’s cheeks go bright red and Clarke wonders if she’s even going to answer. “When we agreed to go out on Saturday night I got excited. I was heading back from lunch, couldn’t wait to tell Anya in the office that you’d agreed to go on a second date with me. Excitement led me to run, and running - in heels, may I add - led to me missing the second step and then falling down the other eighteen.”

Clarke cannot believe that this is all because of her. She knows she should probably feel awful, that history tells her that she’s bad news for everyone, and now Lexa’s lying here in a hospital bed and is no exception. But she doesn’t feel guilty, she feels… Well, she doesn’t really know how she feels. But she’s smiling, and so is Lexa. Her smile pours over into a laugh. “I’m sorry,” Clarke apologises, but Lexa can’t take her too seriously through her laugh.

“You really look like you are,” Lexa smiles, watching as Clarke’s face softens. Laughter looks good on her.

“I really am, I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt, honestly,” she tells Lexa. “It’s just… I can’t help but imagine you running like a schoolkid to tell their friends about their date.”

“This is the second time you’ve compared me to a child, Clarke. I’m starting to think you have a complex,” Lexa flirts.

“Eww. Gross.” Clarke screws her face up. “Believe me, I like women. Not girls.”

“I look forward to seeing the proof.”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t fallen down a flight of stairs you’d have seen the proof sooner rather than later,” Clarke tells her.

“Clarke, I don’t think this foreplay is suitable for a hospital ward, do you?” Lexa winks. If they weren’t surrounded by other beds, Clarke would be on top of Lexa, straddling her before she could even remember where they were. She briefly wonders if the curtain around the cubicle would be enough privacy.

“You haven’t seen foreplay yet,” Clarke offers.

 

\---

 

Clarke tells Lexa about her sketches, about her portfolio and how it’s improving. She leaves out the part where she covered an entire page with different versions of her, but looks into Lexa’s eyes as much as she can, noting every detail so she can draw them later in the dead of night when she misses them.

Lexa tells Clarke about the people who have been in and out of this ward in the past twenty-four hours. Of the elderly lady who broke a hip on the sidewalk, the middle aged man who must have been in some sort of fight or so Lexa gathered from the blood coming from his nose and lip, and the kid who had fallen and broken their arm.

“I wonder what people assume when they look at me in here,” Lexa thinks out loud.

“Probably something much more dramatic that what actually happened,” Clarke teases. “Maybe something chivalrous like you getting injured running to my defense.”

“You should see the other guy.” Lexa laughs but is cut off by a nurse interrupting them.

“Visiting hours are over, you can come back tomorrow morning at ten if you like.”

“Am I still going to be in here tomorrow?” Lexa asks.

“The doctor will be with you later this evening and they’ll make a decision as to whether your head injury poses any more risk.” The nurse smiles and leaves so they can say goodbye.

“I don’t like hearing nurses talk like that. It makes everything seem more serious,” Clarke admits in a low whisper.

“I’m fine, Clarke. Honestly. It’s just a precaution.”

“I know. I just lov-” She cuts her herself off before she can say it. Lexa notices.

“Clarke, look at me,” she says, waiting for Clarke to meet her eyes. Clarke lifts her head. “We don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.” A beat. “But I do too.”

Clarke doesn’t think twice this time when she brings a hand up to cup Lexa’s cheek. She looks Lexa in the eyes, takes her in. She doesn’t see the bruises or the bandages, all she sees is Lexa and the want in her gaze. She wastes no more time as she leans in and kisses her.

This isn’t how she imagined their first kiss to be. She imagined it in private, somewhere they could take it as far as they wanted, somewhere where hands could roam and tongues could taste everything they wanted to. She imagined something intimate.

But she didn’t imagine something as intimate as this.

With people around them, Clarke holds back. She just places her lips on Lexa’s, pushes into her gently. Lexa parts her lips slightly, and Clarke adjusts hers to match. There are no tongues, no moans, no breathless walks to the bedroom. Clarke feels Lexa’s hand reach up to her neck, and the touch sends shivers through her. She pulls away after a few minutes, not wanting the hospital staff to get angry at her for overstaying her welcome.

As she pulls back from Lexa, she opens her eyes, but Lexa doesn’t. She keeps hers closed for a split second longer, savouring the moment, letting the feeling of Clarke’s lips on her own sink into her mind.

“I really have to go now, Lexa,” Clarke informs her sadly.

“You’ll come back tomorrow?”

“If I have to. Let’s hope you won’t be in here much longer.”

“Hopefully.” Clarke can’t quite drag herself away, so she leans down and presses her lips to Lexa’s forehead. She doesn’t understand why it makes her feel even closer to Lexa than actually kissing her did. She can tell by the look in Lexa’s eyes that she feels the same.

“Text me,” Clarke says.

“Of course.”

 

\---

 

Clarke isn’t even out of the building when her phone vibrates.

_i don’t like saying goodbye to you._

Clarke smiles at the thought.

_maybe one day you won’t have to._

 

 


End file.
